


Judgement

by hightechzombie



Category: Dishonored (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-09
Updated: 2014-06-09
Packaged: 2018-02-04 00:30:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 595
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1760753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hightechzombie/pseuds/hightechzombie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A blade left on the grave of the Empress. </p>
<p>One should not ask who, but why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Judgement

Frost covered leaves and the morning chill sent shivers down her spine. The young Empress was dressed not for the cold, but for spring.

Emily walked ahead. She was now an Empress and therefore a leader. Lord Protector followed closely, as always. He did not ask why she had woken him up at such early hour. Maybe Corvo knew the reason already.

The sleepy guards snapped to attention, once they recognized who approached them. Nobody tried to halt the couple, when they entered the pavillion.

What a humble marble plate. But here was nothing in the world that would have done Jessamine Kaldwin justice either. Her mother… there was no one like her.

She saw herself as if from bird’s view and from three different angles. Daughter at her mother’s grave. Small girl before a memorial. The new Empress paying respects to the old.

Emily wished the guards would look away, so that she could grip Corvo’s hand and cry. Instead she had to bite her lip and stare at the point, where the sky touched the sea. She thought she was done crying like a child, but the small Empress was wrong once more.

She blinked away the wetness, when Corvo stepped forward and went down on his hunches. Metal clanged against stone. He had picked up a blade in a nearby shadow and was examining it. Emily drew closer in wonder. This was not a guard’s sword. Rugged, but sturdy, it looked almost like a tool of a worksman.

Most of all, it looked familiar.

"Corvo. Give it to me. Please."

Corvo nodded and for some reason wiped the clean blade with his sleeve. Then he presented it on outstretched hands. Emily took it carefully, as if it could bite her. Her gaze wandered along the it, searching for a mark or clues to confirm her suspicion.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course. But it was a blade that would fit the man with the harsh voice and scarred face. The man who abducted her. The man who killed her mother. But Emily did not remember much from the frantic battle and… the death that followed.

Emily looked up from the blade helplessly. Corvo had turned his back on her, staring at the grave. He was so silent these days and Emily hated it. She thought, after she became the Empress he would go back the way he was. But he didn’t.

Would Corvo recognize the assassin’s blade? He was a fighter after all and could see and remember everything on a battlefield. But was this a question worth asking? Emily gripped the blade harder, already hating it, and stepped forward to stand at Corvo’s side.

They both looked at Jessamine’s name carved in stone.

"Can some things be forgiven?" asked Corvo. He looked tired.

Emily shook her head.

"No. Not all things, I think."

Corvo blinked and lowered his head.

"I would like to be forgiven. And to know it’s the right thing… to forgive. Maybe I shouldn’t have."

Emily stared at him, then dropped the blade. Corvo put her hand around her, when she embraced him.

"Corvo, Corvo," whispered Emily fervently. "I don’t know. I don’t know so many things. I find it so hard to forgive, but you… you’re forgiven everything. If you forgive, then I will try to as well."

Emily felt first shock, then inexplicable relief when she saw Corvo’s tears. His mouth twitched in a smile and Emily tried to smile as well.

Two crying fools, thought Emily, a grave and blade. What a stupid game.


End file.
